Swallowed By The Sea
by lovingcaptainswan
Summary: "It all started when Emma was thrown overboard. The panic, the pain, the guilt... the feelings." While searching for Henry in Neverland, Emma is thrown overboard the Jolly Roger and suddenly, their relationship is redefined - At least to Hook. With new resolve, he would do anything, anything he had to in order to rescue her boy.
1. Chapter 1

**A/n: Written as a prompt by an anon on tumblr (I am lovingcaptainswan) - ****_"emma is thrown overboard the jolly roger by regina, and killian jumps in to save her-he doesnt want to lose another woman in the arms of the sea". Warning: Danger to major character involved.  
_**

* * *

Hook's heart pounded in his chest and salty water choked him when yet another wave struck his body, sending him tumbling into the hull of the Jolly Roger. His already beaten ribs were pulsing with new pain. _Where are you, love? Show yourself to me, please._ He begged her through his thoughts, his eyes scanning the angry sea through the darkness. _Dammit, Emma, don't you dare leave me like this, Lass. I'm not done with you yet!_ If he ever saw Regina again, which he would -assuming he made it out of this mess alive - he'd rip her to shreds with his hook. All he remembered before the icy waters that now surrounded him was Emma's cry as he watched her slip over the rails, and Regina's mock-sincere attempts to catch her before she fell.

He strained against the rope he had hurriedly tied around his waist before he had jumped in after her, regretting not removing his heavy coat as he felt himself sucked into the deep yet again. He came up coughing and sputtering, feeling his strength slowly begin to leave him. _No! He wouldn't lose another woman he cared about to the arms of the sea. _Images of Milah's sheet-covered, lifeless body bobbing in the ocean haunted him as he dove under the next wave, this time of his own accord, opening his eyes and struggling to see something, _anything_ that would lead him to her.

All he saw was black.

Hook was no stranger to the sea and its treacherous ways. He knew that if he didn't spot her within the next few seconds, there was little hope of either of them coming out of this alive. The storm had picked up significantly in the last hour and from the looks of the skies and the waves, it wasn't going to stop its torments anytime soon.

**~ASMG~**

"He's been down there too long," David stated solemnly, holding onto the mid-section of the rope – one end tied around Hook, the other around the mast - as he fought to remain standing through the fierce weather. He stared at the crashing waves with the utmost scrutiny, but could see nothing. "We have to pull him up," he shouted past the now roaring winds.

"What if he doesn't have Emma?" Snow's eyes were wide with panic as she clutched at her husband's jacket for support.

David didn't answer, and instead turned to Regina. "You! Help us!" He ordered, having no regard for her prior status as queen or mayor. His eyes burned with unspoken fury as she moved to obey – finally struck by the full impact of what she had done. He turned his attention back to the rope, feeling his muscles burn as he pulled with all of his strength.

**~ASMG~**

All too soon, Hook felt his breath leave him in an instant when the rope yanked him sharply back. "No!" He screamed as loudly as his lungs could manage, but he knew that they couldn't hear him past the gusts and waves. _Not yet. I haven't got her yet. Please, just give me more time. _He pleaded in his thoughts, fighting the steady backwards pull of the rope and the crashing of the water around him. His lungs ached and every muscle in his body burned agonizingly from the effort he had already put into defeating the storm.

"Emma!" He shouted, and again, he knew that it was a worthless effort. He blinked past the rain and looked up at the rope that secured him, considering slicing through it with his hook. He knew that would only be sentencing himself and the rest of the people on his ship to death. So few knew how to captain the Jolly Roger, they couldn't navigate the magical ship without him, even with Regina's magic. And even if he did manage to find Emma, how could he get her to safety without the rope?

His battered body repeatedly struck the side of the ship as he was unwillingly pulled up and over the edge. He collapsed onto the deck, his body limp as he coughed up the seawater that had accumulated in his throat and lungs. "No," he moaned, barely able to find the strength to do anything else. "I don't have her," he shakily began to lift himself onto all fours. "Why did you pull me up?" he growled, coughing again.

Mary Margaret and David fell to their knees next to him, and carefully eased him onto his side again ignoring his weak resistance, and allowing him to catch his breath. Snow's face was streaming with tears that were mixed with the harsh rain pelting them and she choked out sobs. Regina watched silently from a distance, soaked through and looking something similar to remorseful.

"I have to go back out there."

"Hook… " David spoke, his voice shaking with emotion as he tried to speak past the howling wind.

"No!" He thrashed violently against their gentle hands that held him to the deck, shrugging out of his coat and retying the rope around his waist again.

"Hook, it's suicide!" David shouted, but didn't fight the pirate and instead helped him to stand. "I'm going with you! Where's another rope?" Snow's hand clutched at his shoulder wordlessly.

"They can't pull us both up, Prince!" Hook found his voice again, but it still rasped from the exertion. He made his way back to the edge, preparing to throw himself back into the waves – not entirely sure what animal had taken over him in order for him to commit such a stupid act for the second time. All he knew was that he needed her. He couldn't lose her. Not when he'd barely had her.

_"What are you doing in my quarters, Swan?" He had just removed his hook and coat, and his black shirt hung to his shoulders by only a few buttons._

_The surprise in her expression at seeing him half undressed wasn't lost on him. "I couldn't sleep."_

_His lips curved into a soft smirk. He took a few steps closer and suggestively moved his hand to the remaining buttons, slowly undoing them. "I've been waiting two weeks for you to say that, love."_

_ "I wanted to thank you," she continued, ignoring him. "For what you're doing for me… for Henry. We couldn't do this without you." The sincerity in her voice betrayed her closed off stance and her eyes drifted down his chest, unashamed. In that moment, he knew that she was there for far more than a mere 'thank you' that she could have told him anytime. _

_Hook shrugged off her thanks and casually relieved himself of his shirt as if she weren't watching his every move. "I'm not one to turn down an adventure, Lass," he replied, turning around to set his discarded shirt onto his bunk._

_"This isn't just some adventure, Hook. It's dangerous. So thank you."_

_"I'm also not one to fear danger."_

_Emma grabbed his bare arm and turned him back towards her and he smiled at the contact. She was clearly annoyed that he seemed to be ignoring her thanks. His proximity was obviously affecting her, and without thinking, she took his stubbly cheeks into her hands and kissed him. They were both breathing hard when they finally broke contact from each other and Emma's hands drifted his face and neck. _

_"What do you think you're doing, love?" He eyed her straying hands suspiciously as she drew her fingers down his chest. _

_"Maybe I did come for something else…" _

_Hook's breath caught in his throat when she pressed her lips into his again and he kissed her back with equal passion. "Well, it's about bloody time." _

The captain peered down from his ship into the swirling ocean, not waiting for permission from Charming.

"Fine!" David consented finally. "One minute!" He yelled, grasping the rope again, his hands already burned and bleeding from pulling him up the first time.

Hook nodded without looking back, his eyes still fixed on the sea. Lightning flashed – a godsend if he ever knew of one – and just then, he saw a briefest flash of hair amongst the water, then the red leather jacket she had been wearing. Emma. He didn't recall throwing himself overboard and he barely felt the bite of the icy ocean on his already numbed skin. He didn't process the discomfort of water sloshing into his lungs. He dove underwater, using his hand and stinging eyes to search for another glimpse of her. After what felt like hours, he grasped what he knew to be her jacket and he pulled up with inhuman strength, adrenaline coursing through his veins.

And suddenly she was there. Emma Swan. She was in his arms, her head limp against his shoulder, her weight threatening to drag him down. She didn't move against him. He felt no breath on his neck.

_Please, love, please. Don't leave me yet. Hold on. You're bloody stronger than this, I've seen it._ _You bested me, more than once. What's a little water when you've faced a giant?_ The words flooded through his brain as he slipped back under and into the depths, close to accepting his own impending drowning, but refusing to accept hers. He kicked with what little energy he had left, and just as he reached the surface and took a gasping breath of air he felt the pain of the rope again. He held onto her tightly and allowed himself to let out a sigh of relief.

"Give them some space!"

Hook wasn't sure who had shouted it. He didn't care. His head was fuzzy from the cold water that he had choked on.

"Hook, you can let go. You've got her on the ship, let her go."

He assumed it was David who was shouting out the commands, but his arms tightened around Emma's body subconsciously when hands tried to pry her away – though stronger than his were currently, they eventually succeeded. Ever so slowly, the world began to come back to him. His body began to shiver, the pain inside and out of his broken body became more prominent, and his eyes fluttered open, still stinging from the salt of the sea. He was able to raise himself just enough to get into a crawling position and look in the direction of Snow and Charming crouched over Emma's limp figure.

"Is she…" his words caught in his throat and he coughed profusely as he watched David pump his hands at her chest and blow air into her mouth. Snow clutched her daughter's pale hand tightly as she sobbed, her lips moving, silently begging her daughter to come back to her. He used the rest of his strength to move until he was at her at her side.

"I just wanted my son back." Regina's words were quiet and full of regret. No one seemed to hear her.

After a minute, David pulled away. Tears were streaming down his face and he fell back onto his knees. Mary Margaret began sobbing more hysterically, crushing her daughter's lifeless hand against her lips.

"Wait, what are you doing?" Hook questioned frantically. "Don't stop, she's not… she can't-"

"She has no pulse, Hook," David said in a tone that sounded dead, lacking all life and hope.

"No," he groaned weakly, running his hand through her wet hair.

In over 300 years of being a pirate and living at sea, he was no stranger to drowning, but this didn't seem real. This was Emma. She was strong, invincible even. In the short time that he had known her, he had grown to admire her. The feeling when she had pulled him into her body to save him from the trap at the top of the beanstalk had awakened something in him that had been long dead, and he hadn't even had the chance to tell her. It had only been days before he had felt her against him, kissing, touching, _feeling _for the first time in so long and he yearned to be able to feel that again.

"Don't do this to me, Emma. You bloody infuriating woman, you convinced me to go on this damned venture in the first place. We were supposed to find your boy. We can't find him without you, love, so you need to come back to us. Not for me, for the boy." The words spilled from his thoughts and out of his mouth as he continued to stroke her hair, his metal hook pressed into his stomach as he leaned over her.

"Hook," Mary Margaret's voice finally interrupted him. "It's too late." Her voice cracked.

Without thinking, he tried the last thing that he could think of and pressed a chaste kiss to her blue lips. He waited for something to happen, to feel magic or at least some sort of rush – but nothing came. He painstakingly broke contact with her icy skin and he knew it was too late. He didn't know what he had expected. He hadn't been her true love - not yet. They hadn't had the chance. One night hadn't been enough. Tears burned the back of his eyes but none came, but his vision began to blur and his head swam.

He tried to stand, but his limbs had stiffened from the cold and he stumbled sharply. Failure. He was a failure. He had failed to avenge Milah's death, and he had failed to save his last chance at love, if that's what it may have turned into. He felt strong arms grasp him as he collapsed and slowly, the world went black. The last thing he remembered thinking was that maybe the gods would be kind to him and finally take him.

When he woke in his bunk the next morning, pain radiating through his entire being, he knew that he hadn't been so lucky.

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**_A/n: I know that the anon probably wanted a happy story, but this is where my HORRIBLE muse led me with that prompt and they didn't specify. xD Omg, just let me go ugly cry now. Please review and let me know what you thought so I didn't make myself cry for nothing. xD  
_**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

_Pain. _

That was the first thing that registered in Hook's feverish brain when he awoke well into the evening – or what he guessed was the evening, based on the amount of light coming from his closed quarter doors. His whole body ached fiercely from the pounding he took against the Jolly, a gift from the crushing waves. His head also pulsed with it, likely due to the fever and chills that had overcome him since his stay in the icy water, and based on the familiar pain in his ribs, he guessed that one or more had been re-broken.

He opened his eyes slowly, ignoring the headache and blinking in his dimly lit quarters. His throat was parched, and still felt thick from the sea water, as if no fresh water had washed it away since it had been swallowed. A warm, damp rag that smelled thickly of salt and fish rest against his forehead and the blanket from his cot was wrapped tightly around him. He was alone. Hook struggled weakly to sit up for a moment, before giving up and letting himself fall back to the bed with a soft groan.

_Emma. _

That was the second thought that overtook him – one that caused a far greater reaction than his battered body had. Flashes of her limp figure and pale, blueish skin danced in his mind's eye and a strangled whimper left his parched throat. He remembered holding her tightly as he was pummeled against the ship and begging her silently through his thoughts to hold on. _Emma was dead._ She was dead because he couldn't save her. He hadn't been fast enough, strong enough to fight the storm. It felt like a dream, a horrible apparition conjured by the fever – something he had caught in Neverland. _Gods above, please let it be a dream._

With new resolve, he fought to sit himself up, causing the rag fall to the side, and he shakily drew the covers from his body to find that he had been stripped completely bare of his soaking clothes. He only briefly wondered who had rid him of them before he noticed the ugly marks that covered him. If it had been a dream, it had been a damned realistic one. Large, dark red and purple bruises littered his torso and legs, and there was a nasty burn in a circular shape around his waist from where the rope had cut into him the second time he had jumped in after her without his heavy coat to protect him.

_It wasn't a dream._

The thought cut into him like a knife and he could almost feel a cold fist clutching at his heart, the tightness in his chest was so intense. He had begun to shiver violently with the blanket tossed to the side and his vision swam from sitting up for too long. He glanced around the room for any sign of his clothing.

"Hook…" The small, surprised voice belonged to Mary Margaret. She was at his side instantly, blushing ever so slightly as she covered him again with the blankets and pushed him back into a lying position. He could only groan in protest. She placed a cool hand against his forehead. "You're still burning up, but at least you're awake," she muttered, almost as if she were speaking to herself. "You've been in and out of consciousness for almost two days now with that fever." Her mouth was set in a hard line and she didn't meet his eyes as she worked, re-wetting the rag in a small bucket next to the bed, wringing it out and placing it back onto his forehead.

Hook let out an appreciative groan at the feeling of the cold rag on his forehead, shivering again slightly, but feeling strangely relieved by it. He let his eyes close slowly, then they shot back open when images pelted his feverish mind. "Emma-"

"You need to take it easy," she murmured reassuringly, finally glancing up to see the panic in his expression. "It's gonna be ok. Here," she placed a cup against his lips, encouraging him to drink.

The cool liquid felt amazing against his dried mouth and coated throat. He slowly sipped, gradually becoming greedy, taking in long gulps until he coughed sharply, and Mary Margaret removed the cup from his reach. "...Where is she?"

"Who?"

"Emma…" His voice cracked, though whether it was because of his parched throat or emotion could not be distinguished. He couldn't bear the thought of her body being buried away in a watery grave without him saying his last goodbyes.

"Shh, you-you don't need to worry about her," she whispered, running a hand through his moist hair with an unfamiliar tenderness. "You already did enough," she went on, and gazed at him with sadness in her eyes. "Thank you, Hook… For what you did."

_She was thanking him?_ Somehow her gratefulness stung even more than if she had slapped him in the face and blamed him for her death. He wished she would. Anything but that wretched, sad smile she forced as she looked at him, as if he were deserving of some twisted praise. He drank when she offered him more water, and his throat finally began feeling less scratched and swollen.

"Don't waste your breath on me, darling. I don't deserve your thanks," he replied, turning his eyes away from her.

"But you do," she nodded firmly, tears glistening in her eyes. "You're more of a hero than you give yourself credit for, Killian. You almost _died_."

He flinched at the sound of his name on the woman's lips. "Maybe it'd have been better if I had."

Mary Margaret sighed softly to herself and gently pulled the blanket back from his chest to reveal the rope burn. "I need to clean this." She reached down into the bucket of seawater, retrieving another rag from it. "It's no medicine, but it's the best we can do right now," she mumbled, rubbing it across the raw wound, casting him an apologetic look when he let out a sharp moan, his skin trembling beneath the gentle massage of the cloth. "Shh, I know it hurts." She placed a hand behind his back and encouraged him to sit up so she could wash the wound on his back.

Choking back another gasp at the sting and the scream of his throbbing ribs, Hook took a shaky breath. As his hazy mind awoke even further, a new thought occurred to him that set his blood to a boil. "Where is Regina?" The steely tone and the way his expression flashed with a controlled fury would have been enough to take the breath away from anyone, but Mary Margaret calmly continued tending to his injuries.

"She's below deck, tied up until we decide what to do with her. Gold is on guard duty."

"Well, isn't that wise," he croaked sarcastically. "Put the scheming Crocodile with the Queen. Maybe with their combined magic, they can kill us all before we realize what's happened," he snapped, his prior promise of peace momentarily forgotten as three hundred years of distrust returned to his consciousness.

"He's _not_ going to help her, Hook. He only took over so David could get some rest. He's been awake since…"

"And what about you, love?" The harshness in his voice softened slightly when he realized how tired and worn out the woman was. Bags lined her eyes and her face was drawn and emotionless.

"I haven't had the chance."

Had she been taking care of him the entire time? He was the captain, they needed him for survival, but the thought was both touching and guilt-inducing to the pirate. "Leave it to me then. I'd be happy to deal with our little problem, just supply me with my hook and a few hours alone with her."

"We're not going to kill her."

"Why the bloody hell not?" His head was pounding again with pain and exertion from all the speaking he was doing, but he couldn't care less at this time. He'd been denied revenge once for the greater good, but the pain in his chest was bringing the old hunger back.

"She says it was an accident."

"And you believe her?"

"No, I don't, but we need her to get Henry back. I don't like it any more than you do, Hook, but we have to do what Emma wanted. We have to focus on getting him back."

Mary Margaret stood up quickly, ending the discussion, though obviously fighting her own mind with the decision herself. She dropped the rag into the bucket and walked across the small cabin to retrieve another blanket. There was a long period of silence as Hook watched her tired but agitated movements.

"We aren't moving… Who is captaining my ship?"

"We've been anchored for two days now."

"_What_?" New life crept back into his weakened voice as he sat up. "No. It's too dangerous. We can't stay in one spot for so long, not in Neverland."

"We didn't really have a choice," Mary Margaret said, returning to his side and lightly lying him back onto the cot. "Not without its captain."

"What happened to my clothes?"

"They're here," she nodded to his nightstand. "You were soaked to the bone. By the time we found some dry clothes, you were delirious and it was easier to leave them off."

"I have to get us on our way," he groaned, struggling against her delicate but surprisingly strong grip so that he could sit up and dress. "We'll never find the boy with me lying here, useless."

"You're _going_ to be useless if you don't rest. Your fever hasn't completely broken yet. Hook... You've done enough."

This was too much. "She's dead! Your daughter died out there because of me. You keep saying that I've helped, what have I done?" He hollered loudly, roughly shoving her hand off of his shoulder and sitting up. The pirate's eyes took on a stormy look as he spoke, the sea blue becoming darker and clouded with pain.

"Killian…you need to calm down, you're too weak to-"

"Don't," he growled, holding the blanket around his hips with his good hand and swiftly swinging his legs over the edge of his bunk, standing before his body was allowed to protest. He stood shakily for a moment, then moved towards his nightstand under Mary Margaret's worried watch with a new confidence.

"She's n-"

"Don't call me a hero, love. I...I-" His words were cut off as the world began to go black once again. He felt his body lurch forward, but couldn't seem to control himself enough to stop it.

"Dammit!" Soft hands gripped his arm, slowly easing him to the ground. "You stubborn pirate."

After a moment or two of fighting for consciousness, the room stopped spinning and Hook could focus on the woman who had caught him. "Why didn't you just let me die?" he whispered, weakness beginning to overtake him again.

"Killian, Emma isn't dead."

* * *

_**A/n: So, you guys did me in with this one. I considered writing something heartbreaking and sad, and then I apparently broke all of you, so I had to continue. xD I'm thinking probably only 1 or 2 more chapters after this one, but I enjoyed the emotion in this too much to give in and leave it as a oneshot. Which is why I didn't put a "character death" warning in the summary btw. I was considering continuing it the whole time and wasn't quiet sure yet, so I didn't want to give anything away either way. ;) Please let me know what you think and if it's worthy of continuing. :)**_


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

**_An: Holy crap-ton of reviews, Batman! I'm so happy that you guys are enjoying it, even if I am killing with the feels. ;) I can't help it. I love angst and fluff equally, sometimes I have to abandon one for the other – then I just go write a humor or fluff oneshot to compensate! Lol _**

**_To those of you asking why Mary Margaret didn't just break the good news to him right away, here is my thinking – I mentioned that he's been in and out of consciousness for two days with his fever, so in reality, she's probably told him a few times already and just didn't know that he didn't remember until he straight up said it. Plus, she was exhausted from being up for so long and she was just trying to take care of him, his delirious rambling wasn't important at first, but with him walking around and appearing coherent about her death at the end, she had to say something. Hope it makes sense to you! :)_**

**_Btw, pardon the lack of beta this time - I wanted to get the chapter posted tonight, but I will look it over again tomorrow!_**

* * *

"I thought you were supposed to be asleep?"

The accusatory edge in Mary Margaret's concerned voice made David flinch. "You know me, Snow. Do you really think I can sleep right now?" He sighed, rubbing an exhausted hand over his temple, closing his eyes momentarily. "Our daughter is sick, and the only man who could get us to safety is fighting for his life, and the only other people on the ship don't exactly have the greatest track record for being trustworthy. Not to mention our grandson is kidnapped by psychos, and we're almost out of food."

"Hey, shh," she brushed a gentle hand over his cheek and met his anxious gaze for a beat before continuing. "Hook's awake. Well, he was."

David immediately looked more awake himself, and the muscles in his jaw that had relaxed from his wife's tender touch became taut and serious. "Was he lucid?"

"I couldn't tell. He was sitting up when I walked in. He'd thrown the blankets off of him-" A brief look of jealousy flitted across David's features and Mary Margaret rolled her eyes. "_Oh please_, David. He's _sick_. He didn't know what he was doing. He was talking, but there were lapses between him making sense and not."

"How much longer do you think he needs?"

"I don't know. I tried to get him to stay still, but he was really agitated. He was trying to stand too quickly and he passed out again. I did get some water into him this time though, and his fever seems to be breaking…" she added hopefully, chewing on the inside of her lip. "How much food is left?"

"Enough fruit to last the day and maybe tomorrow if we ration it carefully," he shrugged, shaking his head. "We need fresh water."

"I know…" Silence filled the small corridor below the deck. Traces of tears glistened in her eyes, her pale pink, lower lip beginning to tremble with held-back emotion. "David, are we even going to find him?" Her calm, strong tone she had used while tending to the captain's wounds and fever was gone, and all that was left was the hesitant, insecure Snow White who wasn't sure if she was doing the right things.

Charming gathered her into his arms and nuzzled his face into her short, brown hair, the singular, wordless gesture bearing hopeful promises of peace and comfort and family – of something away from this dangerous land, where they wouldn't have to worry about death or separation from loved ones. "Emma is alive," he whispered finally. "That's a miracle as it is. If a pirate who doesn't care about anyone but himself can risk his life to save our daughter… what can't we do?"

"You're suddenly romantic," she mumbled. So used to her normal role of 'the hopeless romantic' and his of a slightly more skeptical 'protector', she found herself wondering fleetingly if he were delirious too.

"Why _do_ you think Hook risked his life like that?" He mused, genuinely doubting himself as he pondered the question.

"You've seen the way he looks at her, David."

"I try not to," he replied coolly, with a small frown.

"…Maybe he's not the man we thought he was. There's good in him, David, otherwise he wouldn't have offered to help us in the first place. Emma's still alive."

"And ironically, the two people to thank for that are Regina and Hook," he commented dryly with a cold laugh, resembling more of a scoff than a sound born of happiness.

_"Let me through!"_

_"You stay away from her!" Charming's protective bellow cut through the ferociousness of the storm, stopping the queen in her tracks. He was still holding Hook underneath his arms, propping the unconscious pirate up against his own legs, making it harder for him to keep his balance against the wind. _

_"I can help if she has any life left in her! Please."_

_"You've done enough."_

_"David! We don't have a choice! …Let her help." _

_Mary Margaret's sorrow-filled, begging eyes cut through him in an instant. He mutely stepped aside, watching her like a hawk as she drew closer to his only daughter. _

_Regina placed a gentle hand on Emma's still chest, and soon, a faint light glowed through her skin. "Thank God…" she breathed, closing her eyes and pressing down harder over her lungs. Ten seconds passed without any sound but the thunder and pelting rain against the ship and as the three watched in hope and horror, it felt likes decades. _

_Suddenly, Emma began coughing violently, raising her head slightly as inordinate amounts of water spilled out of her mouth with every gag. Her mother instinctively cradled her head and upper body, holding her up so she could get the rest of the water out of her chest and stroking her hair. Emma's coughs eventually turned from chokes to a few dry, heaving, hacks and her upper body flopped back down against Mary Margaret's lap. Her rib cage moved up and down steadily, her panicked eyes scanning everyone around her for only seconds before they rolled back into her head. _

_Mr. Gold opened the door to their quarters, the crew's cabin, just as Charming dropped Hook, scooped Emma into his arms and barreled towards him, Regina and Mary Margaret following quickly at his heels. His face filled with puzzlement and shock when he saw Hook's body lying on the deck and Emma draped in her father's arms. _

_"What did I miss?"_

Mary Margaret pulled back to search his clear blue eyes, a curious and doubtful look in her own expression. "Regina may have gotten the water out of her lungs with magic, but she was also responsible for her almost_ dying_ in the first place. One right is no match against a lifetime of wrongs against us."

"And I hate her for that as much as you do, but she has magic. You heard Emma. We can't throw that away, not when Henry's life is at stake. And what would Henry think?"

"I know… But David, she _does_ this. She does something terrible and then follows it with something good. How many times can we keep giving her second chances? How can we keep trusting her?"

"We don't have to trust her," he replied coldly.

They were interrupted by the echoes of a hacking cough from the other room.

**~ASMG~**

_"Killian, Emma isn't dead."_

The words assaulted his mind over and over like a knife twisting in his gut. He had woken to a quiet, empty room again, no Mary Margaret, no clothes, and pulsing pain. He didn't know if he had been dreaming or awake, but the cool, feeling of relief in his throat and the dampness on the rope burn made him feel that at least some of it had been true. Then again, he had also been certain at times that Emma had spoken to him, touched him, and tended his wounds over the past two days but instead, only awoke to see the worried but caring face of Mary Margaret, lined with exhaustion.

She wasn't alive.

_She couldn't be. _

He had felt the painfully familiar limpness in his arms once before - the feeling of all life and spirit having been drained out of a body that had previously had so much of it. There was no coming back from that. He'd had 300 years to come to terms with the fact, and he wasn't a fool - It wasn't one that he would allow himself to forget so easily.

He reached for the small, tin cup that rest by his bedside and drank it ravenously all to the last few drops. _Now get your bloody arse up and get your crew to safety. _He commanded himself to move, the tone in his head a similar one that he would use to bark orders to his sailors – a crew that no longer included Emma – he stopped himself mid thought. _Stop feeling so damned sorry for yourself and move. You're the captain, they need you. Her boy needs you. You have a little fever? A few broken ribs? Since when has that stopped you, you little wench? What do you think Henry is going through right now? _He continued to curse at himself internally, as he painfully pushed himself up into a sitting position, slowly this time, pausing to allow his body to adjust to the shift.

Something had changed in him since he had watched her fall over the railings of his ship. The panic, the pain, the guilt… the _feelings_, so much stronger than he had ever suspected before and with them, came a new resolve – he would do anything, _anything_ to save Henry.

Even if it killed him.

Once again, the blanket fell from his body as he stood shakily, bracing himself on the bed, then the nightstand as he stepped forward. He searched his drawers for clothes, rewarded on the third drawer, neatly folded vest, coat, pants, and shirt, then beside it – the glinting silver of his hook.

**~ASMG~**

"You can't stop me from seeing him, he saved my life," Emma argued weakly, sitting up as abruptly as she could manage and pleased when the room didn't immediately begin to spin for the first time in two days.

"Honey, you need to lay down. No one's stopping you from seeing anyone. He's sleeping and you need to rest."

"Are you serious? All I've been doing is resting, and it's driving me crazy. I'm tired of being in this bed. I barely have a fever."

"You've also barely eaten since you practically _drowned_ two days ago. What would Henry want?"

Henry. She had to pull the Henry-card. Emma sighed in defeat and slumped against the flattened, lumpy bits of material that passed for a pillow on the Jolly Roger. "I'm sorry. I know you're trying to help … How is he?"

"He's pretty beaten up," Mary Margaret admitted, placing her hand over Emma's. "His fever's not as high, and I think the delirium part is over, but he's still pretty weak. I thought I finally talked to the real Hook today, but then he blacked out again."

Emma's face clouded with concern. "He's _that bad_?" She hadn't expected this. She hadn't expected to hear that he was so ill when she was the one supposed to be taking it easy. He was Captain Hook, a flirty, irritating, pirate captain to fear – he got the shit beat out of him on a regular basis, but he always bounced back. "But I was in the water longer than he was…"

"Regina's magic woke you up. I'm guessing whatever it was … I don't know, helped somehow? Besides, you're a fighter. After he thought you were dead, he didn't seem to want to-"

"He didn't want to what?" She prompted, alarmed, sitting up straighter.

Mary Margaret swallowed hard, not sure how to continue – not sure what she had even been saying to begin with. "He was sick, Emma. He blamed himself for your death."

Her face contorted with confusion. "What does that have to do with him _living_?" She snapped, wincing when a small spark of pain shot through her temple at the sharpness of her own tone.

"Emma," she began hesitantly. "Do you remember him kissing you?"

She remembered him kissing her, but it wasn't any time that her mother of all people would be aware of. She remembered going to his cabin for something quick, something to make her forget – instead she had gotten his soft lips caressing her body like she was something precious and fragile, and his jaw straying lower than she had felt comfortable with. She remembered him calming her uneasiness with simultaneously tender and arousing, sensual words, convincing her to let him take his time with her and stirring up all kinds of complicated emotions with every gentle touch that she definitely didn't want to be feeling.

"He _what_?"

"When you were… we thought you were dead, Emma. You wouldn't come to and … he kissed you."

Emma swallowed hard and pursed her lips together, for once completely and entirely unsure of what she was feeling.

"Emma? Are you ok?"

**~ASMG~**

Killian groaned quietly to himself at the sharp ache in his ribs as he carefully pulled on his pants, tucking in his messy black shirt, and trying to ward off the feelings of dizziness that came from standing up for too long. Unsteady fingers slowly threaded the laces, pulling them tight.

"Hook?"

His entire body jerked and his head shot up so quickly, for a moment it looked as if he would topple over backwards onto the short bunk behind him. Painstakingly, he lifted his chin, his eyes flitting from her feet finally to her face. A sharp intake of breath pierced the empty air.

"Swan?"

Before he could process what was happening, he felt small arms wrapping around his torso and squeezing him tightly.

He let out a loud cry of anguish, his legs going weak at the pain that flooded through his body. It was too much to process. Seeing her face, the feeling of her blonde hair on his neck, hair that still smelled of the salty sea mixed with a distinctly 'Emma' scent.

"Mind the ribs, love," was all he was able to croak out, collapsing to his knees with a groan when she abruptly released him, horrified at having hurt him further. He felt the hot burn of unshed tears in his eyes, unsure if it was because of the pain or relief.

She cursed under her breath, kneeling next to him. "I'm so sorry," she breathed, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. She felt herself getting vaguely lightheaded, but she took a deep breath, closing her eyes and then little by little opening them again, greeted by another set, as clear and deep blue as the Neverland sea on a calm day, the days that Hook had marveled about the beauty of the dangerous land. "_Killian_," his true name fell from her lips this time.

"_Gods_, is it really you, Emma?"

She nodded solemnly, smiling softly. "It's really me."

"How?"

"...does it really matter?" She replied after a moment, not entirely sure of the answer to his question either.

The softest of smirks played at the corners of his mouth as his amazement turned to relief.

"What're you doing here holding me then, love? Shouldn't we be looking for your boy?"

**The End**

* * *

_**A/n: Yep, that's the end. I will let the readers imagine how the rest goes, it wasn't meant to answer every question or possible plot line (such as, I purposely chose not to delve further into Regina's intentions because it wasn't about her), so let your imaginations run wild. hehe The original prompt part of the plot was basically over, so I decided that it wasn't necessary to drag it out longer. Adding new elements to the story would just make it another romance in Neverland story rather than what it was originally meant to be - an emotional piece based on a specific sentence prompt. Besides that, I have a hard time writing more than one "work in progress fic" at once, and this was never meant to go on for long. I hope that you all enjoyed it! This was really really fun to write, even if it was heartbreaking at times. I definitely plan on more Neverland-set fics!**_

_**Review?**_


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